


Marseille

by FaerieChild



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, OHMSS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:25:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaerieChild/pseuds/FaerieChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q and Bond's first holiday as a couple results in an inevitable introduction. Light-hearted cross of Skyfall with OHMSS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marseille

“I thought, Marseille,” Q adjusted James's tie and stood back to admire his work. He reached in and tightened it a little. “Its not too far on the train. The Eurostar and the TGV. We can be there in a couple of days and you said somewhere warm.”

“Marseille?”

“I thought you liked France.”

“I do,” Bond wavered. He wondered if he should tell Q. Adam, now. Adam. He constantly had to remind himself that Q had a proper name that wasn't 'Quartermaster'.

“We can go by Royale on the way back? I'm sure we can get the time off together. You take the same fortnight every year, after all. Or the Alps. Or both. Or is that a little too morose?” Adam stepped back and buttoned up his cardigan of choice that day, a turquoise green number with a paisley pattern tie that looked like it had fallen straight out of somebody's discarded curtains. “I mean, I can make myself scarce there, if you want some time alone. I don't mind.”

Bond stared a little wistfully at his boyfriend. With his record he hadn't expected to find anyone he cared about ever again. They had a heart-breaking habit of ending up dead. Yet here was Adam, fully appraised of the risks because he ran James's missions. Fully aware of the honeytraps and the divorcees in London and cared not a whittle. Perfectly happy to go off and do his own thing for a few days so James could spend a day or two remembering and grieving and drinking too much but just when James needed him he would turn around and there was Adam, like some sort of psychic cat, waiting for him with that look in his eyes and Adam would take the car keys out of James's hands with a quiet 'come on' and find the nearest hotel room so they could lie naked together and make love.

Adam said he didn't mind James's philandering if James didn't mind the computers. Considering the number of times he'd gotten out of bed and been chastised for standing on a half-soldered motherboard, James had considered more than once that Adam might be getting the better end of the bargain.

“My father-in-law lives in Marseilles.”

“Father-in-law?” Adam's face concentrated inwardly in that adorable way of his.

“Tracy's father,” James added.

“Ah.”

“I don't mind, Q, it’s only that he'll want an introduction.”

“Will he? You don't talk about him much.”

“Well he's the head of the Unione Corse. It doesn't do to go talking too much.”

“No, I suppose not,” Adam pulled down the hem of his cardigan and clicked his heels together. This was, James had observed over the weeks, the sign that they were now ready to depart. Out in the hallway Adam picked up his waterproof jacket and his satchel and James picked up the expensive black rucksack that he used nowadays to ferry things like spare clothes and shower gel and illicit Technical Services gadgets to and from their place of employment.

James's secretary thought it was faintly adorable the way that James and Q carried on, Q being sure to 'drop James off' in the morning on his way down to Q branch and that soft besotted smile he'd give James before departing. It helped that Q was rather obvious about the whole thing. Even standing ten feet away across a room, somehow it was blindingly obvious that he was smitten with James. James on the other hand tried and failed to pretend it was nothing serious but the fact that he'd stopped chasing the latest female employee to join the secretarial pool rather gave the game away as did his absurdly over-protective behaviour when it came to the Quartermaster.

They continued the conversation over lunch. James was having eggs. Q had rather strong opinions on James's predilection for eggs, particularly when it came to farting under the covers and he glared rather at the pile of scrambled eggs on his boyfriend's plate.

“Lets go anyway,” Adam announced. “I think I'm up to it. He probably knows all about me anyway.”

“Probably,” James agreed with a soft smile. “If you're sure.”

“I'm about due a bit of sunburn,” Adam responded. James took that as a yes.

 

Marseille was glowing under the hot Mediterranean sun and Q was wondering if factor 30 would be strong enough or if perhaps he oughtn't to have gone for the factor 50 on account of his freckles. At least if Marc-Ange didn't take to him all he'd have to do to do Q some damage was leave him out in the sun a while, or take him flying. Or both. Really Adam was more than passingly nervous about the whole thing but he wanted a holiday in the sun and Adam trusted James with his life. If he thought now was good time to introduce his new beau to his dead wife's father then so be it. The fact that James had kept up a sort of relationship with the man wasn't too surprising given the connection. The thought of James as a widower, however, was the aspect of all of this that most easily escaped Adam's mind. He forgot, frequently, about James's history because James talked of it so little. Not that Adam could blame the man.

The little electrical shop was as good a front as Adam had ever seen and the array of analogue technology inside presented a tantalising array of possibilities to the enthusiastic engineer. James grunted something to a short, heavy-set man with dark eyes and tanned Mediterranean skin who stepped aside and allowed the pair through to the back. They were met with another man of the same build as the first, with sparkling warm eyes and a friendly disposition. The man took one look at James, embraced him in a warm hug and kissed him on both cheeks.

James, Adam was sure, was actually blushing.

“James! It has been too long old friend.”

“Every time you do that you swear to me its the last!” James protested.

“And so it is,” Marc-Ange Draco grinned and patted James on the back. “Until next time. You look well!”

“I feel well. Thank you. I brought someone to meet you.”

“You said you had met someone,” Marc-Ange nodded. “You have found love! My dear Theresa, God rest her soul, would not want you to be alone, James. And you and I both know you are not that sort of man. She will forgive you. Now who is this charming young gentleman?”

“Adam. Adam Mansfield, Marc-Ange Draco."

Marc-Ange looked from James to Adam and then back to James again. When he was certain he had established the facts he burst out laughing and slapped James heartily on the arm. “Okay,” He chuckled away happily. “Adam it is. We live in interesting times.”

“In some places that's a curse,” James pointed out but Marc-Ange was already past him, shaking Adam's hand and passing on his condolences for the loss of his mother.

“Thank you,” Adam acknowledged with some surprise, “I wasn't aware you knew her.”

“By reputation,” Marc-Ange shared. “You work for the Secret Intelligence Service also, but you are a little more senior than my beloved James here, I think. You have that bearing about you.”

“Do I?”

“Most certainly,” Marc-Ange agreed, “I think you are used to people underestimating you, but I shall not make that mistake. Now,” Marc-Ange snapped his fingers and then rattled off a string of Corsican to the man at the door who scurried off to obey his Capu's orders. “We must eat dinner.”

 

Later that night, in their hotel room, provided courtesy of Marc-Ange whether they liked it or not, Adam pottered around the room finishing his night time routine while James lay in bed, naked, waiting for him. “He seems like a nice fellow, for someone who heads the largest crime syndicate in France.”

“He thinks of giving it up from time to time but I think he worries about who would take over in his absence. He took a shine to you well enough.”

Adam blushed slightly. Marc-Ange did indeed seem rather more approving of James's choice of partner than Adam had anticipated would be the case. Adam had expected to be given the third degree from the prospective father-in-law-in-law but on the contrary, Marc-Ange seemed warm and genial towards James's new partner. “Its a simple matter of accepting and acknowledging that we all have pasts and Tracey is part of your past and you loved her. There's no shame in that. You love her still, I'd imagine. I don't see why I should feel threatened by that. You might have mentioned your bromance with her father, though.”

“Come to bed, Q.”

“Adam.”

“Come to bed, Adam.”

“That's better,” Adam announced and did indeed crawl into bed although he was wearing pyjama bottoms where Bond was naked. “Are you going to act like a farting storage heater all night?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You and all that body heat,” Adam berated his lover, “Its always baking under the covers when you're around and then you start farting all over the place. I wonder you get laid at all sometimes.”

“You realise my father-in-law is probably listening to all this.”

“Good. He ought to know what sort of son-in-law he has. Four eggs for breakfast every morning, and to think we spent all that money sending you after Spectre's biological weapons.”

James ignored Adam's prodding and instead watched Adam lie down beside him and propped his head up on one arm. “What are we doing tomorrow?” James asked.

“Well, in the unlikely event your father-in-law will give me free reign in his shop, I intend to spend the day up to my elbows in his decades-old archive of of analogue parts. The more likely scenario is that I will watch you read a book on the beach and slowly turn into a lobster.”

“I thought you brought sun cream.”

“Only factor 30,” Adam snuggled into Bond's side. “I really should have brought factor 50. I don't know what I was thinking. I might just need to stay in the shade, to be honest.”

“You'll get rickets at this rate.”

“Ah. Well now you've found me out. You see I'm actually a vampire.”

James felt a warmth blossoming in his chest at Q's – Adam's – gentle teasing. When he was standing upright, when he was doing his job, Adam looked like a pillar of strength but when he laid down James thought Adam often looked so much smaller and vulnerable. It was when they were lying in bed together that James felt at his most protective and he leaned in and kissed Adam's wild hair, winding an arm around his waist. “I'll protect you.”

“From the evil sun?”

“From everything,” James promised. “I suppose could take a drive up the coast if you want. Out of town. Find some place quieter. A quiet village, a secluded beach, a bistro for lunch.”

“Alright but I'm driving,” Adam announced.

James sighed with contentment and laid his head on his pillow. “Adam, my love. I wouldn't expect anything else.”


End file.
